Lucidus
by Jimmy the Gothic Egg
Summary: Everything was unexpected: the reason, the travel, and especially her. She was the most unexpected thing of all. [Title change.]
1. Preaching

An odd little AU. I blame _Song of Magdalene._ ((The story of Mary Magdalene and her life before she met the prophet. Written by Donna Jo Napoli. Personally, I'm pagan, but I understand the Christian religion far better than any of my Christian friends.))

This story is a bit strange. A bit off the Avatar universe, but still there, just not quite. Zuko's still in exile, the Fire Nation is still trying to take over the world, but the Avatar hasn't shown up yet, and Katara's a bit… different. Don't worry too much about it. You'll figure it out. You're much smarter than I give you credit for.

_Lucidus_ is Latin which means "luminous" or "lucid."

_Lucidus_

**Chapter One: Preachers **

Earth towns were strange things.

He's traveling in disguise, because otherwise he'd be recognized. He's traveling, though, and that's the problem. Because he should be home, home and preparing to leave, leave for battle, battle for the Fire Nation, the Fire Nation being his home.

But he was in the Earth Kingdom, and it was strange. He had dressed himself in a washed out tan, an unthreatening color, wary of his normal crimson robes, and clothes of any other color might strike suspicion. People stuck close to their own origins, but his origins were unwelcome, but he wasn't. He was accepted as another traveler, a traveler who did not want to be there, lest they saw it or not.

He did not want to be there.

But he kept going, straight through the town, and he ignored the looks. Looks of curiosity, wary looks, uncertain looks, and- he shivered unpleasantly at this- lustful looks. Girls of age seemed ready to flaunt, and a few flaunted around him, but he pushed them aside, just keep going, going, going…

Outside the town was a heavily treaded trail, ready for feet to brush upon it. Ahead he could see a crowd, men, women, children, some dressed in the natural green of the Earth Kingdoms, and some dressed in the deep blues of Water Tribes, and a few unhappy looking Fire Nation guards. He thought, best to avoid the crowd, best to keep going, to not be noticed, because that was the last thing he wanted.

But he noticed her.

She was dressed in a thousand different blues, dark hair cascading over her shoulders as she raised her arms high. She seemed in a trance, mouth open in a long hymn, eyes wide at the sky, unblinking, staring, gazing…

He paused and wafted closer. She stood atop a large rock, feet placed awkwardly to keep her standing. Two women leaned close to her, as if she'd gone into paralysis, but her arms came down quickly, making loud slapping noise as palms hit her skirt. She began speaking, low tones but fast speech. Everyone moved closer, and he did too, because she was entrancing. She sat, feet spread out as she made herself comfortable on the rock. The low light wrapped around her hair like a halo, and for a moment, he thought, she looked like a goddess.

Then he shakes his head and continued on, throwing quick glances to the guards. He has no time for silly girls telling stories; he had to continue on.

But his ears snatch a snippet of the girl's story, and he finds less lore and more fact.

"…The sun is there to be seen," she says with a solid tone, yet it's whimsical in its own sense, "And the moon is there to hide."

He pauses a moment longer and half-turns, as if he's going to stay, then he stops.

Because the guards are moving closer.

Their hands rest on their weapons, and he notices the crowd begin to thin. But she keeps going, paying no mind to the soldiers moving her way.

"The moon is a thing of beauty, of love, of life, but it's cycle speaks of man's own journey…"

He moves along with the soldiers, casually, as if the girl's words have drawn him in. Their swords rise from the sheath.

"…The odd beginning of mortality, but with death brings new life, because you're reborn again, and…"

He words trail off. Whether it's because she's noticed the soldiers moving closer or she's suddenly lost in her own world is unknown. There are the women at her feet, but she slowly stands, and now he's standing behind the women, a careful eye on the guards.

Her mouth opens uncertainly, as if the words are too large too fit between her lips, but she lets it slip out, slide like an eel from her tongue.

"…And you cannot bury the moon."

The words are final as the first man grabs her. The women at her feet scream, and he jumps over them, grabbing her arm, thrusting her back.

He doesn't even realize what he's doing as he lands a kick onto the chest of the soldier, knocking him back into the second. His hand is still clasped on her arm and he pulls her along as he begins to run. He misses her wave to the now-thin crowd, a grin across her face.

He can hear the shout of the Fire soldiers behind him, but he just speeds up, keeping his face bent and low. She still behind him, running to keep up, because his grip just tightens and for some reason he doesn't let go. He feels the heat of a fireball and dodges it gracefully. She smiles even as it singes her robes.

There's a forest ahead, and he can hide there. Whatever the men wanted to kill her for, it's not enough to follow too far. Just to be safe, though, he diverges from the path, and she giggles as the tree limbs reach to grab her loose hair. He stops suddenly, and she rams herself into him, still going with the momentum. He flails forward and lands in a shallow stream. She bends down beside him, brushing out branches and touching the burnt skirt.

"Thank you," she says brightly, and he glares at her. But she doesn't notice. She pulls a knife from within boots two sizes too big that look old and slimy even if they weren't wet. She takes it and bites into the fabric of the skirt, ripping up to her thigh. He blinks quickly, looking away, but she's laughing. She's wearing trousers beneath her skirt, ones he couldn't see before. But now he does and he sits up, kneeling before the river.

"What were you doing?" he asks, words slipping from his mouth before he could catch them.

"I was preaching," she answers simply, ripping off the skirt in a movement that stills bring a blush to his face, no matter how much she wears beneath.

"Preaching what?"

He's confused. What needed to be preached, he did not know, but she was filled with an enthusiasm for it, and that was reason enough to learn.

"I'm thinking of starting a religion."

She answered in a funny little way, like it was brought up in conversation every day. He started, turning to her.

"Why would you do that?"

Because she was so intriguing, he couldn't help but ask questions. Otherwise, he might say something stupid.

She stared at him with a strange gaze, leaning forward to meet him only inches away. Her hands moved to touch the side of his face, and he pulled away, standing quickly.

"I helped you," he said sharply, and he could see his face fall. "You can go your own way."

"But…" Her protest falls short before she can even speak it. Slowly she stands up, dropping the dead skirt into the river.

She's only an inch below his height, her frazzled hair around her like a wild animal's.

"But…" Her mind is thinking of an excuse, and she places her palm's flat against his chest. Just because she likes to see his face heat up. "But you saved me. I need to repay you."

What she doesn't tell him is that she was ready to save herself.

He steps back uncertainly, and she smiles at him. "Where are you going?"

He starts again, his footing unsure. "What… What do you care?"

"Where are you going?" she presses, closing the space between them.

He definitely had not expected this, but the entire trip was unexpected.

"Where are you going?" A finality in her voice; she wouldn't ask again, liking a mother scolding her children.

"I'm…" He thought a moment. Where _was_ he going? Nowhere. Wherever he could… "I'm not sure."

"Good." She grabs his arm and begins to walk along the stream. "We can go there together. I need a bodyguard and you…" She paused to look at him, one eyebrow arched, and he felt a sudden self-consciousness. "You need help."

He shakes his head at her but lets her lead, because he thinks he can ditch her anyway. Her fingers are cool against his skin, and her long hair brushes his wrist.

"What's your name?" she asks off-handedly, as if she didn't mind if they stayed strangers. He'd rather that. But he gives his name, because she doesn't seem like the type of girl to know exactly who he was.

"Zuko," he answers, letting her fingers slip from his. "Might I know yours?"

Her voice falters as she speaks it, as if she's not used to it being spoken. She seems like she should be a different person, as if there's something he's missing in the single moment her name is spoken, and he listens with rapt attention to hear it all, all three syllables, and the weight of it heavy on her tongue.

"Katara."

**Authoress Notes: **

That's the beginning.

I was reading _Tempest in a Teacup_ (or something to that esteem), and there was a chapter about a king falling in love with the moon, and I had an idea.

A muse speaks into my ear, but it's a new one, and it killed the old.

So, I kinda switched between present and past tense. I'm sorry about that. I'm too lazy to fix it, and it kinda adds, doesn't it?

I have to go finish my Romeo and Juliet project. I get to rewrite the ending. Ha! Romeo loves other men!

**Reviews are good for the health. **


	2. Questionable Songs

_Lucidus_

**Chapter Two: Questionable Songs **

She's an odd traveling companion.

She sings as she walks, legs moving in deep strides, and she reaches to tie her hair back. It's wild and unkempt, and he smiles.

"What element, sir Zuko?" she asks between notes.

He ignores her, stepping behind her, because she seems the worthy one to lead the way.

"When one asks you questions," she thinks aloud, "do you choose to ignore them, or are you deaf?"

"I'll answer questions as I see fit."

She doesn't like this answer, and she stops suddenly, turning on her heel to face him.

"It is impolite. An unanswered question is one that hangs in the air, waiting to find its completion."

He suddenly doesn't like her. He clenches his fists and gives a slow, seething answer. "I will answer as I see fit."

She frowns at him and turns quickly, going back to playing with her hair. Her lilting his off-set now, and he smiles at the silence.

"What is your quest?" she asks. There is no conversation, just questions, because it was her decision to take a companion, claiming him "her bodyguard," and he just let her.

"I'm searching for somebody," is his unwise answer, a tad hesitant.

"Who?"

Her question is unsettling, because he's not quite sure. "I'll know him," he decides. "He'll be recognized."

But he was assuming it was a "he."

She nods. "I'm searching too."

For what, she did not mention.

"Zuko," she says, testing his name. It was foreign to her lips, the shape her mouth made when saying it. An odd name, one she hadn't heard before. "Where do your loyalties lie?"

It was a trick question. He did not give up his origins, but his loyalties were less distinguishable. Some villages and towns had completely given themselves up the Fire Nation, claiming themselves in their name. He chose his words carefully, as not to incite suspicion.

"My loyalties lie with my country."

She nodded. "That makes sense. But the question still remains: what is your origin?"

He did not answer.

---

_"Cherry blossoms gracefully bloom o'er the fields that lie,  
High up is the castle wall, where have warriors gone?  
Where is the moonlight that brightly shone up high,  
Shone upon the warriors who drained the glasses dry?" _

She sings.

He looks up from his position, which is legs outstretched over brush and leaves, resting against a trunk of a tree. She's in the branches above, one arm anchored around the trunk, the other outstretched to reach a fruit.

"Where did you learn that?" he calls.

"My mother sang it to me." Her words fall down like rocks as they clash against him.

"And you're Water Nation?"

Her grip slides from the tree as she tries to touch the fruit before her. He doesn't quite remember how she got up there, but she was a spry thing, like a squirrel.

"I am."

It's an odd thought, since he learned the same song from the same source. His mother had sung these words before she'd gotten ill. Before…

He closed his eyes. There was the scar on the side of his face, where all his memories would lie. Thankfully, Katara had yet to ask the question of its origin.

_"Oh, the moon is rising high in the depths of night,  
Silent is the ruined site lying on the ground,  
Ivies creep o'er the gate in the cold moonlight,  
Rustling are the pine trees through the windy night." _

She continues with her song, skipping a verse. She preached of the moon before; what an interesting ideal she held…

Her arm is no longer wrapped around the tree trunk as she touches her fingertips to the food, voice dying as she took her concentration completely on the item before her. He watched as her fingers gripped the branch it was sitting on. Her feet slipped, her arm grabbed for an anchor, and the branch broke so that she and the fruit fell. He stood quickly, throwing out his arms. She landed awkwardly, her arm latching at the last minute on a sturdier branch, her other hand catching the fruit she'd been so desperately trying to find. She let her arm slip so she landed bridal style in his arms, grinning at her prize.

"You're insane," he decided.

He set her down, and she pulled out a knife from some odd place. She sat down cross-legged and began to peel away at the skin, pulling a rag out to catch the inside, which he learned were small seeds.

"What is it?" he asked.

"A pomegranate." She paused to offer him a seed, which he took hesitantly. "They're delicious."

It was sweet. He sat down beside her as the rest of the seeds spilt out.

"You risked your life for this?"

"Of course."

"You're insane."

She smiled and placed a seed into his open mouth, which caused him to jump back.

"I might be," she popped a few seeds into her mouth, staring down at her stained fingers, "But at least I'm happy."

He took that as a personal jab.

---

_"Oh, rabbit on the moon,  
What are you leaping for?  
I shall leap, I shall leap soon  
At the large full moon!" _

She sang to herself to make herself sleep.

He heard her voice in his drowsiness and stared up at the starry sky. There was a melancholy tone in her voice, and he felt a chord strike within him. He saw her hand reach up, as if to touch the sky, and she covered her face.

Some answers weren't meant to be given, and some questions weren't meant to be asked.

**Authoress Notes: **

A short filler chapter before any actual plot.

Katara's personality is different for a reason, reasons unknown, but soon to be found out.

The pomegranate came from the chapter in _Song of Magdalene_ where Miriam and Abraham fed each other pomegranate seeds. Pomegranates are good.

All songs can be found from this site: mamalisa. com/world/japan .html

**Next Chapter: Katara causes trouble, and Zuko stands by his conviction. This conviction? She is insane. **


	3. Peaches

Consider yourselves lucky. I wasn't going to update anything this week, but I realized this hasn't been updated in forever, so, here you go. Be thankful!

Title change. I like it more.

_Lucidus_

**Chapter Three: Peaches**

Their teeth were still stained from the pomegranate seeds.

She took a moment before they entered the town to choose a nice large boulder. They were still in Earth Kingdom territory, and there were many afoot.

He couldn't help but smile as she pronounced the proper preaching rock and sat down on it.

"You go ahead," she said, waving a hand at him, "I've got no money anyway."

Neither did he. So he sat down beside her, cringing as she belted out a tune.

"_Rising, rising is the moon,  
Large & round, large & round, round round one,  
Plate-like full moon will rise soon."_

He shook his head at her. For some odd reason, his plan to ditch her had lost its focus. Instead he stayed intrigued, because her quirky attitude held no promise of what was to happen next.

Two travelers paused to see the singing girl, an odd look upon their faces. Her voice was soft and sweet, and they decided to stop for a minute to hear the girl some more.

He cast them dark glances, but kept his face hidden, because they wore white robes, dark skin oddly illuminated beneath shade of their straw hats. Dark purple stripes down the chest, a sign of importance.

It only takes a few minutes for a crowd to form.

She takes pride in making a scene. She starts off with the sun, speaking of its brilliance. He remembers old stories from long ago… The fire is lit with the sun, while the moon guides the way for water.

He glances at her, and he finds himself staring at a girl who has far more knowledge than she should. She looks to be his age, maybe a year younger, the same age as his sister…

He suddenly stands, and not too soon. His eye catches more soldiers moving their way, and he passes a glance to Katara.

But she's not paying attention, because her eyes have gone dark. Her hands clench, nails biting into skin as she bites her lips. There's something wrong, he thinks as her body tightens and begins to shake. For a moment it seems that her eyes have gone blind as she stares up, eyes widening as if they're going to pop out. The entire crowd sucks in a breath, and quickly he grabs her arm. She blinks quickly and stumbles backwards, almost like a board. He doesn't quite catch her but yanks her back so that she becomes loose again, almost too loose. She takes in a breath when he hadn't realized she wasn't breathing then throws it back out again with a monstrous cough. Her insides are burning but he pulls her along, and she just shakes in his arms, beginning to feel like a helpless child.

He throws back a glance, just to be sure, and he's relieved to see no one is following. Her coughing has turned to retching, but he doesn't stop until they are out of sight and then he lets go, letting her rest.

It only takes a few minutes for the convulsions to stop, and she doesn't look up at him.

"You're sick?" he asks aloud, the sound almost empty.

"No," she bites quickly. "I just…"

Her voice dies, because she can't think up a proper excuse.

"What's wrong?" He doesn't know why he even cares that much. He should've just taken the chance to leave her, but she doesn't seem like the person who should be left by themselves.

"Nothing. Leave it alone."

Of course he doesn't want to, but he doesn't think he has a choice. So there is a silent agreement right then and there: to treat it as if it doesn't exist.

---

"We're headed south?" she asks quite suddenly.

He's taken to leading, because she seems meeker now.

"Yes."

"Why?"

He pauses. "Because I need to meet someone."

"You said you didn't know where you were going."

There's accusation in her tone. He ignores it.

"I don't. I know where I need to be."

She frowns, stumbling over the rocks. Her balance is off, he decides, but why?

"I've already traveled this way through the Earth Kingdoms," she says. "If you need a guide."

He shakes his head at her, saying nothing. She's back to the self he'd met, whether that's her old self or an entirely new one. He hadn't known her long enough to tell the difference.

"I can't stop you from stalking me, can I?" he responds.

She pauses, giving a pout, then something comes to mind, and she laughs.

"Was that a joke?"

He ignores her.

"You should try being funny more often. It suits you more than your usual mood."

His usual mood? Broody and grumpy. He is allowed that much, isn't he?

She doesn't know his usual mood anymore than he knows her, but they know enough of each other's demeanors to notice when something was off.

And something is off about her.

She is too quiet.

Does her boisterousness come with her sickness?

No, she doesn't seem the type to be held back by any of that.

Suddenly, quite suddenly and he nearly trips, she grabs his arm and points. He falls backwards and she lets go so she doesn't fall herself.

"Look!" she cries and turns to him, raising an eyebrow. "Why are you on the ground?"

He growls and considers burning her to a crisp right there. But she's already running ahead and scurrying up a tree to catch whatever she'd seen.

She's more animal, he thinks, than human. And it's scary, almost.

He wonders what possibly possessed him to stay near her.

(What he forgets, of course, is that he is a teenage boy. He is not the only one.)

He hopes she falls out of the tree again and breaks her neck.

Instead she climbs out with a laugh, holding a prize in her hands.

It's alive, whatever she's found. She holds it out to him like a child who'd found a stray, and it stares up at him curiously as it continues to eat, as that's what it was doing when she disturbed it.

(You're not the only thing she disturbs, he thought silently to the animal.)

He's not quite sure what it is.

"It's ugly," he says.

She sticks her tongue out at him childishly. "It's a lemur. And you're no better looking."

He reminds himself that the smell of burning flesh was not a pleasant one, and hard to wash out of one's clothes.

"He was eating a bunch of peaches up there. I'm hungry. Let's stop."

"You can stop," he answers.

The lemur takes part of its peach and stuffs it in his face.

(He might be hungry too. What does lemur taste like?)

She just laughs and lets it go. It climbs back up into the tree, and she stands beneath it. Peaches drop into her hand. It's already dusk and he figures he might as well stop for the night. As long as the lemur doesn't bother him too much.

---

She has a night ritual he hadn't noticed before.

She takes a long strip of cloth from her bag and ties it around her mouth. He doesn't ask, but she notices him watching and unties it a moment to answer.

"I have nightmares."

There was something they had in common.

He doesn't think much about it, until the lemur wakes him up in the middle of the night by throwing a peach at him. He gets ready to throw a fireball at it, but he stops at the sight of Katara on the ground, shaking and shuddering. Her words are muffled but they sound painful. Carefully, because he's almost afraid to wake her, he places his hands on her shoulders. He remembered when he was little and sick with fever, his mother would touch his forehead, and a sense of calm would run through him.

But he's not his mother, and he always thought it was better to sweat it out.

Still, he presses his palm against her forehead. She's cold, like death. But she stops shivering at his touch, and she gives a sigh of calm.

He's not like his father either.

**

* * *

Notes:**

The appearance of Momo brings the appearance of someone else we know… But only shortly. He doesn't get a full view for a while.

I can only laugh now, that the sweet old man that is Zuko's uncle was the evil demon from Samurai Jack.

What the hell is wrong with Mr. T? And am I the only one bothered by Burger King commercials?

I got the best review for this story. "Lust-inducing," was it:Bows: I honored by that comment. **Leave more.**

And does anyone remember Reboot? That was awesome.


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